


Time Is Tight Part One: What Lies Behind

by MichiganBlackhawk



Series: Trio AU [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Flashbacks, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 03:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MichiganBlackhawk/pseuds/MichiganBlackhawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the midst of the hunt for the Colt, John Winchester has to decide how far to trust Delphinar's daughter now that the yellow-eyed demon is in his sights. Told from John's POV. Takes place during the first season episode "Dead Man's Blood."</p><p> </p><p>Revised version updated 5/23/2014</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“A neromancer. A damn neromancer.”

It was clear enough who Jayme was and moreover, who her mother was. It might have been Delphinar’s plan all along; he wouldn’t have put it past her. She, like most of her people, was extremely adept at playing her cards close to her vest. All that time had passed, he thought that tie was cut. But Delphinar had been watching him, he could bet. Keeping an eye on them from afar. He’d allowed it, because you could never tell when a friend like her could come in handy.

And yet he resisted. It was too easy to yield to the temptation, too easy to be seduced by the power they promised. He’d done his research with them as well, just like he’d learned to do with everything, finding out everything he could about these beings who, if Delphinar had told him the truth, had been on Earth before the raising of the pyramids in Egypt. A few of the older hunters knew them, or at least knew of them, mostly rumors and sightings that yielded very little insight.

Certainly no substitute for meeting one yourself.

 

 

“You look like a man who’s on a mission.” A simple enough greeting, enough to draw John Winchester’s attention away from his maze of notes and to the voice, belonging to a middle-aged woman whose library-issued nametag identified her as D. Phina. She was pleasant-looking, with a face that seemed capable of both kindness and sternness, with large green eyes behind small-framed spectacles.

“You should know better than to interrupt a man on a mission,” he shot back mildly, grateful for the chance to let his eyes rest even as his inner voice yelled at him to dismiss her so he could get back to it before more people died.

“Then lucky for me I’m here on official business,” she replied, handing him a small, leather-bound book that despite its age had obviously never been put on the re-binding cart. “I’m told you were unable to locate this earlier and I thought I’d take a stab at it. Found it three rows down from its home.”

“Thank you,” he said, rising to take it. “I’ve been floundering without this. How did you find it?”

“I sniffed it out. I have a knack for it, which is why they made me the big cheese around here.”

“I’m grateful. I should be done with this in an hour.”

“Take all the time you need. Somehow I doubt that crowds of people will be lining up to read about this town’s obscure history of mysterious deaths.”

John’s alarm bells went off. “Thank you . . . uh?”

“Del.”

He noticed the way her eyes passed over his notes and his journal, which was open on the table. It was brief and she was standing a little too far away to reasonably make anything out, but he got the uncomfortable sensation that she was able to read it all.

“John,” he introduced himself.

“Pleased to meet you. Is there anything else you require? Silver bullets, perhaps?”

John’s hand flashed out and wrapped around her wrist as he stood to face her and hissed, “What the hell are you?”

“Merely someone observant enough to notice a patron doing research on strange deaths, werewolves, and smart enough to put two and two together, based on recent events.” She glanced down at John’s hand as if mildly surprised to see it there.

“And in the know enough to know about silver bullets.”

“Oh come now. Anyone who’s been to a Lon Chaney movie knows about silver bullets.”

“But you’re taking it seriously. As seriously as I am. You know what I am.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Do I? And just what is that?”

His hand tightened. “Don’t play games with me, lady.”

“I’m nothing you need fear. That is, provided you let go of me.”

“I’ll need a better answer than—” Suddenly John’s eyes widened and he stepped back, releasing her as a boy with straw hair came in and looked up at him sadly before taking the backpack off his chair and then heading back toward the children’s area.

Del’s eyes followed him, and when she looked back he knew instantly that she was a parent as well. “If you insist. But not here, and not now.” Her gaze moved to the clock on the wall. “We close at nine. If you can meet me then, you’ll have your answer.”

 

 

He had gone back, despite his better judgment. There was something strange about her, something not-human, something beyond the range of normal, but at the same time he felt no threat. Going back to the library that night with Sam and Dean in the car had not been his first choice, but he didn’t want to leave them alone. He’d done it before, for brief periods, but it always put a prickle of fear in his spine. He knew he’d have to get them to safety once the time came to bring down the werewolf, but for now he wasn’t letting them out of his sight.

He’d learned a lot in the nearly two years since Mary’s death. There was always something new, always new details to add to the pages in the leather journal that still had the sheen of newness on it. This was an entirely new and terrible world and he didn’t have much time to master its secrets. There were precious few allies out there but he’d made some, especially Pastor Jim, who was always willing to take care of his boys when he needed to be on a job for more than a day or two.

Despite the clandestine rendezvous, the night had been anticlimatic in one sense; she didn’t reveal herself to be a werewolf, which he hadn’t been expecting in the first place. What she had revealed was as far from expected as you could get.

 

 

He glanced in the rearview mirror. Sam was asleep in his car seat; Dean, who had just recently refused to occupy a car seat any longer, was nestled in the makeshift seat of pillows and blanket that John had rigged up to ensure he wouldn’t slide all over the seat, but that saved Dean from the indignity of looking like a baby. He was also asleep, his head resting on the edge of Sam’s car seat.

Del was waiting by the library’s side entrance. The building was dark, the outside parking lot lights keeping her well-illuminated. He got out, making sure to pull his coat over the gun tucked into his jeans. No sense taking chances.

“I didn’t expect you to come,” she said.

“You talk as if I had a choice.”

“True. And you did come.” Her eyes moved, imperceptably, but he got the feeling that she was taking in much more than a simple glance. “I want to know why you’re looking for werewolves in this town because I have reason to believe you’re putting yourself—and your offspring—in danger.”

He hadn’t expected that much honesty in one go. “I’ve been investigating werewolves, yes. If there is one here, I’m gonna put it down.”

“Good. We know where we stand. I don’t know who you are but you aren’t like most humans.”

He blinked. Just once. “Humans.”

“Yes, you heard me.” She didn’t quite meet his gaze.

“What are you?”

“First let me ask you a question. Do you believe that someone who is not human is automatically evil?”


	2. Chapter 2

“That all depends. How many people have you killed?”

Her mouth quirked. “None, yet. Hopefully never.”

“So then what are you?”

“A visitor from another world.”

“Nice try.” He reached for his gun. “Now what are you, really?”

“At this point my proof would probably create a problem for me, since you have your hand on that gun. And you don’t seem to be a man given to trust.”

“You’re very perceptive.” He slowly took his hand off the pearl handle, keeping it near. “Show me your proof, and maybe we’ll talk.”

She studied him for a moment, as if standing on the edge that big decisions usually put one on. It wasn’t the look of any creature he’d ever seen who relied on tricks to snare their victims. Then she reached up, taking off her spectacles and handing them to him. He looked down, noticing that when he looked through the lenses his fingers were not distorted by magnification.

They were fake.

She stepped back into the shadows. “I am trusting you to stay your hand, John. If that means anything.”

He held still, watching as she grew. Not just straight up but expanded, her clothing peeling away from her body—not tearing, but parting along the seams and drifting silently to the pavement. Fur, a brownish red, sprouted along her limbs, a long tail with a spade-shaped bone growing as if by time-lapse. The most dramatic shift was her head, which shifted and changed seamlessly to an elegant skull with the broad, flat brow of a bear and the compact muzzle of a great cat. Two shapely ears, more tapered and curving than a tiger or bear, swept back from either side of her head. The eyes that rose to meet his were the same as the librarian D. Phina, only larger, without a trace of the blind ferocity that he’d have expected from such a huge form, one that easily stood six foot six if she were an inch.

She held perfectly still, watching him. “I take it since you haven’t fired, then you are willing to listen?”

 

 

He had been. It went against every instinct he had, but something beyond instinct told him that she was not something—someone—he needed to fear.

So he listened. She was, she claimed, from a planet called Ka’Trin’Ahr, a sound that rumbled from her enormous chest in a long purr. Her species had mastered spaceflight over ten thousand years ago, and they explored the galaxy, learning about and observing other worlds. For worlds who were already capable of spaceflight, greetings were open. For ones who weren’t, a more subtle method of information-gathering was needed. There was nothing they wanted from humanity, nothing they wanted to take, no harm they intended.

It all sounded fantastic and completely unbelievable. But he couldn’t deny the reality of what he was seeing. Or that she seemed very worried about something that had to do with the job he was on. Apparently her people were responsible for some of the shape-changing popular werewolf myths, and that many times werewolf sightings meant not true werewolves, but her people. Obviously one lone human hunter would find himself in terrible danger if he chose to take on a neromancer—a name she said was a very long story—by himself.

 

 

“Now you understand my caution,” she said once she’d changed back. Her clothing, designed to come apart at the seams, was easily put back together. John watched, fascinated despite himself, as her huge clawed fingers drew the edges together until they were whole again; she shifted forms back to her human one, showing no qualms about being naked, and dressed once more. “Normally we do not reveal ourselves to humans who haven’t already figured out who we are, but in this case you can see why I had to.”

“So you think what’s going on here is one of your people?”

“It could be. I don’t know for sure, but now that you’re here, if it is one of my people, then my responsibility is to keep you safe.”

“I can take care of myself. Believe me.”

“I’m sure you can, when it comes to the things you hunt. But this is an entirely different world you’re dealing with. For it you’ll need my help.”

“All right. Where do we start?”

 

 

The long drive to Colorado was conducive to thought as he went over the events of those few days. He’d taken his boys to Pastor Jim, warning him what was going on and what might happen, but leaving out any mention of his new ally.

In that case it had been werewolves of the kind he was used to hunting and not a neromancer. Instead of leaving as soon as that was clear, Del—or Delphinar, her true name—remained with him, helping him bring the two werewolves down. Neither of them were any match, speed- or strength-wise, for her ‘beast’ form (a name which, she informed him, was her daughter’s term). In addition to the two-legged giant, she was also able to shift to four legs, running one of the werewolves down herself while John finished the other.

It was a level of power and pure savagery that made him deeply uncomfortable. If even one like her decided to go after humans—

She’d sensed his train of thought, explaining with an almost amused look that though her kind were predators, hunters by blood and millenia of breeding, hunting in her culture was a matter of survival, taking only what you needed to eat and no more. And humans, she explained, were not on the menu. In any other circumstances such words wouldn’t mean much, but once again he couldn’t find a trace of danger or deceit in her eyes.

They’d parted ways, Delphinar giving him her number “In case you find yourself in need of my help again.”

He had once more when a big job had presented itself with no time for him to get Sam and Dean to anyone else he trusted. She was a mother, she was kind, she lived alone, and if anyone or anything tried to get to his boys they’d have to go through a wall of fur first. Even with how it ended, leaving them with her was a decision he never regretted.

Now it was time to see if her daughter was equally worthy of his trust.


	3. Chapter 3

Elkins’ cabin was not hard to find. He hadn’t moved in years and even though he and Daniel hadn’t spoken since their falling out, he still knew his way.

The Impala was already there. He allowed himself a little smile—his sons picked up on things quick, quicker and quicker as the years went on. And it was clear when three figures emerged that she was still with them. 

Once more the urge to go up and meet them, tell them exactly what was going on, came over him and for the thousandth time he tamped it down. Watch the perimeter, make sure there were no nasty surprises planning on making an appearance. If vampires were responsible, it was possible they were still around, and there was no telling what would happen if one of them bit a neromancer.

He waited until they left, staring at his watch until exactly ten minutes had passed. Then he started up his truck and aimed it towards town after them. He knew the head- and taillights of the black Impala he’d given to Dean better than anyone, so keeping a discreet distance was not at all difficult. Advanced technology courtesy of Jayme was a consideration, but not a big one. They’d know he was there soon enough.

 

 

“You said you conquered spaceflight. That means you have advanced technology. Enough to lay waste to this planet if you wanted to.”

Delphinar had the grace to at least tilt her head. “Yes, we most certainly do.”

“Surveillance?”

“That’s sort of our job here.”

“I don’t mean that. I mean do you keep tabs on people, watch them more than you need to just to observe.”

“We can, if there’s a reason to. If I chose, I could track down any person on this planet with nothing more than a DNA sample. Your technology is impressive for your current level of advancement, but for us—it’s all rather primitive.” She’d stayed in her animal form to help John collect the werewolves to be cremated out in the woods.

“It’s risky to carry that kind of stuff around. What if you’re found out?”

She smiled. “I appreciate the sentiment but we have contingencies for that. Besides which, very little of our technology comes with us. I have to put a dime in a pay phone the same as you. As I said, we’re here to learn, not to stand out. And I won’t lie to you that some of my people don’t exactly respect humans. But the ones who do outnumber the ones who don’t, I can promise you that, and we don’t stand idly by.”

“Except when it comes to helping humanity.”

She nodded, as if she’d heard it—or something like it—countless times before. “We cannot solve your problems for you, John Winchester. Humans very often bristle at the idea of being treated like children, and yet you constantly look for others to take care of things. No, it would cause far more harm than good for us to intervene in your affairs. Even revealing ourselves openly would be disastrous. Your species is not ready.”

“What do you mean, not r—”

“Your first instinct when you saw I wasn’t human was to reach for your gun, John.”

“Okay, maybe you have a point.” He watched her lift up one of the dead werewolves as if he weighed nothing, putting him with the body of the second, a younger female. “Is it hard? Not helping.”

“I don’t speak for my colleagues, of course, but in my case—yes. But you have to learn for yourselves, as hard as that may be for you and for us. Your species deserves a chance to make its own future. Then it really is yours.”

 

 

They’d found their way to the post office; he watched Sam and Dean break in soundlessly to both the office and a mailbox, evidently finding something interesting enough that it sent them back to the car in a hurry. He waited until they were inside and the doors were closed before he approached, their voices carrying thanks to partially open windows and a cool, still night.

“J.W.?” he could hear Jayme saying. “He was writing to Joe Walsh?”

“Who else has the intials ‘J.W.’ Think a little closer and get your mind off the Eagles.” Dean’s voice.

“You gonna open it and find out?”

Waiting until Dean was fully turned away, he drew up to the car and knocked on the window, expecting Dean to jump, shout, or curse, or maybe even bang his elbow on the steering wheel—which would serve him right for letting someone get the drop on him.

He got the vague notion of Dean jumping, then something slammed into him hard enough to knock him off-balance, leaving him open for something heavier and warmer to hit him like a battering ram, flattening him. “Mr. Winchester,” Jayme said. One of her hands was raised, claws ready to strike. “That was very unwise, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” he said, breathing hard. “I forgot the element of surprise takes on a new meaning when there’s a neromancer around.”

She lowered her hand. “You and I need to have a little chat about that later.”

“I know,” he said, getting up.

“Dad?” Dean asked, staring with huge eyes as Jayme crawled back into the back seat, followed by John. “What the hell are you doing here? Are you okay?”

“Course he is,” Jayme said. “What do you take me for?”

“I’m fine,” John said. “Heard about Daniel, got here as fast as I could. Saw you three out at his place.”

“Wait, you were there?” Jayme said.

“And you didn’t notice?” Dean said.

“Hey, lover boy, don’t know if you’ve noticed or not but I’m not all-seeing, okay? I was concentrating on scanning and keeping ready in case whatever it was that killed that guy came back for seconds.” She turned to John. “I take it you didn’t get all that close.”

“Why didn’t you come in?” Sam asked.

John stayed silent, looking at Jayme, waiting to see what she said.

“He was making sure you weren’t followed. Covering the outer perimeter.”

“Right. Nice job covering your tracks. Don’t suppose they had any help from you.”

Her gaze was inscrutable. “They might have. They hardly need it.”

“Wait a minute,” Sam said. “You came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?”

“He was a good man, Sam. Taught me a hell of a lot about hunting.”

“Then why haven’t we ever heard of him?”

Same Sam. Never content with facts; he always wanted to know why. There was no way to convey years of working together, Daniel teaching him things that were more valuable than any kind of money or riches, the kinds of things that could keep you alive, of what was really out there, and how much it hurt to watch all of it fall apart after he and Elkins had locked horns like a pair of bitter old rams.

Besides, it was none of Sam’s business. “We had a falling out. Haven’t seen him in years.” He reached for the envelope. “I should look at that.” Thankfully Dean was the one holding it, and he handed it over without question; even now John was certain that Sam would have held it back, demanding answers instead of just doing as he was told. He opened it, scanning the words. “‘If you’re reading this I’m already dead’—that son of a bitch. He had it the whole time.”

“Had what?” Dean asked.

“While you were there did any of you see a gun? Real old, an antique, something dating back to the nineteenth century. About as old as her, I’m guessing.”

“I found a box that had a gun in it, but it was empty,” Dean replied.

“Then they have it,” John said. Of everything that could have gone wrong, this was what he had been hoping against. Hope was not his usual mode of being, but sometimes he tried to focus on how things could best turn out, if the word “best” even applied.

“The ones who crashed in through the ceiling?” Jayme asked.

He got out of the car. “We have to pick up their trail.”

“Wait, what trail?” Dean asked as Jayme unrolled the back window and leaned out. “Hey!” she snapped. “I scanned that place and there weren’t any other human signs besides Elkins, except for something it couldn’t decipher! Now what is it?”

John turned, facing the three expectant faces behind him. “What killed Daniel wasn’t human. They were what he killed best. Vampires.”

Dean blinked. “I thought there was no such thing.”

“You mean like ‘I vant to sip your blood’ vampires?”

“That’s ‘suck,’ Jayme.”

“Whatever.”

“I thought they were extinct,” John said, coming back over to the car. “That Elkins and others wiped them out. I was wrong.”

“So how do you kill zem, Doctor Van Helsing?” Jayme asked. “We stock up on the garlic and stakes, eh?”

John shook his head. Of course she didn’t know better if his sons didn’t; they couldn’t teach her about things they didn’t even know existed. “Forget what you read or see on TV—most ‘vampire lore’ is crap. Cross won’t repel them, sunlight won’t kill them. Neither will a stake to the heart. The bloodlust—that’s all real. They need fresh human blood to survive, and they were people once, so you won’t know it’s a vampire until it’s too late.”

“Well, so much for getting to play Mina and Jonathan,” Jayme said. “Sam would have made such a good Lord Godalming.”

“Yeah, she always talks like that,” Dean said. “We need to come with you. We can help.” Then he added something John didn’t expect. “Dad, between Jayme’s nose and her little scanning thingy, we won’t have to worry about ‘too late.’ Those vampires won’t know what hit them.”


	4. Chapter 4

Despite what his sons might have believed, John Winchester had often watched them sleep, both protecting and contemplating. After Mary’s death he’d resisted the urge to cling to them as tight as he could. Raising them strong, smart, and tough had been the only way to ensure that they would not share their mother’s fate. At times that meant stifling whatever urge he’d felt to tell them how much he loved them. Attachment and sentiment could get you killed, and it was something that their enemies knew how to use against them.

Missouri had scolded him for not telling his sons what he’d found, the bits and pieces he’d been working on fitting together for some time that were slowly revealing a picture, and not one he had much desire to look at. He wanted to tell them, had literally clamped down on the urge to tell them every bit of it, but it was just as likely to blow up in all of their faces. He couldn’t risk it. Not this close to the end.

And then the hotel room in Chicago, when he had turned from the window expecting to see Sam and Dean and found not just them, but something he hadn’t seen since before the time he’d left his sons with a woman he’d barely known. The only thing he knew for sure about Delphinar was that he could trust her, and that her protective instincts and her inhuman forms would keep any creature with the least amount of sense from her door.

Since leaving them that night after the daeva attack, standing bloody but unbroken next to the car, he’d wondered how long she would stay with them. Together the trio might have faced a few monsters, but none of them were anything like the demon. He knew enough about neromancers to know that he couldn’t ascribe human female emotional reactions to her, but all the same, from what he’d learned of her job on Earth, hunting monsters was worlds away from what she’d been doing for the last five decades. But even so, she’d stayed.

He steepled his hands, watching them sleep. He’d forgotten about her and the room only had two beds, but that apparently didn’t bother them a bit. Sam was sprawled on his back on one bed, alone. Dean was in the other, in the same position as his brother, with one exception.

 _Another neromancer protecting my sons_. She was curled up against Dean’s side like a kitten, her head resting on his shoulder. It wasn’t the way lovers slept; his body wasn’t open to her, but neither was it closed. She looked entirely human, her small hand with its claws shaped to look like nothing more exotic than well-manicured fingernails resting on Dean’s stomach as if it belonged there. Her eyes were closed, her breaths slow and even, but John knew well enough that she was just as formidable asleep as awake.

It could be possible. This was an unknown variable that didn’t fit into the equation, something he hadn’t seen coming. Perhaps it would be enough.

“I’m guessing you can hear me,” he murmured. Neither of his sons moved.

“Of course,” Jayme said, her eyes opening. “I can hear you breathing if I concentrate.”

“Faking sleep?”

She got up, moving off the bed so smoothly that Dean didn’t wake. Neither of his sons were particularly heavy sleepers, but they weren’t exactly what you would call quick risers. “Taking what Dean calls a catnap,” she said. “Nice light doze, easy to come out of.”

“You have your mother’s eyes.”

She walked over to the table. “And my father’s ears, but the rest belongs to you.”

“What?”

“Sorry. Jesus, Dean is rubbing off on me, can you believe that?”

“Somehow I don’t think he’s inspired you to be a smartass or gave you the ability to quote movies.”

“No, he sure didn’t, but it’s nice to find a kindred spirit that way.” She sat down. “What can I do for you?”

“Tell me about the last few months. Before Chicago, and what you three have been up to since.”

“I’m sure you know that as well as I do.”

“Facts. I want details. From you.”

She shrugged, laying out the hunts they’d been on. It was fairly clear that she might have started travelling with them because her mother told her to, the way he’d always told Dean to watch out for Sam, but along the way she’d started to form a real bond with them. He was sorry to hear about Delphinar’s death—he’d seen enough killing to have lost a lot of reaction to it, but a pang of sorrow hit nonetheless. No matter their arguments, she’d been one of the better people he knew.

He listened, taking in the details but paying more attention to the in-between. She was clearly her mother’s daughter, with a calm, easygoing manner, but something else flashed from within, conflicted emotions that went no further than her eyes. It wasn’t the wisdom he’d seen in her mother, the knowledge of centuries that made it hard to surprise her. Jayme was much younger, and there were things within her that were unresolved, that much was certain, and no way to tell when or if it would come out in a bad way. She had by her own admission injured Dean badly when she got out of control.

But then she’d also been there during the daeva attack, helping them escape the room and saving him hours of stitching himself up. There were pros and cons to be weighed, and not much time to do it.

The police scanner interrupted his train of thought. Time to move.

 

 

Routine felt good. Hunting was all about patterns, ways of investigating, gathering information, finding out what you were dealing with, then moving on to killing it. The hunts were never the same but the routine usually was. The more you did it, the easier it got, when evidence seemed to stick out more and more the more often you saw it. The cop he was talking to clearly had more mundane causes in mind, which blinded him to the sharp tooth on the ground that stuck out to John Winchester as if it were glowing. He bent down, pretending to tie his shoe, and swiftly palmed it.

He headed back to the car, able to tell even from a distance that Sam was unhappy and Dean was trying to keep the peace. Jayme was across from them both, appearing to sniff the air and clearly ignoring them.

Time—time away from him, time at college, time roaming the country for months with Dean and a nearly two-hundred year-old alien—had apparently not healed the old wounds. Sam wanted answers, he wanted explanations that would take too long and just muddy the waters that now more than ever needed to be clear. He stepped back into another old routine, letting the irritation flow; he was sick of Sam’s attitude and it was time to let that out.

He walked by the Impala, snapping at Dean about the car’s condition—not exactly deplorable but far from the immaculate shape he’d always kept it in—in other circumstances he might have held his tongue, but he was angry and things had a tendency to slip out. Jayme said nothing and did nothing, but when he reached his truck he became aware of a sound; a steady, warning rumble through teeth that were sure to be clenched, a reminder that some throats that looked perfectly human were anything but.

She was standing by the back door, glaring at him, the piercing glare of a protective guard dog, and it was only Dean’s “Jaymes?” that seemed to snap her out of it. The growl vanished and she closed her eyes, seeming to shake it off. Without looking at any of them, she got in the back seat, closing the door behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

“I’d like to know more about your people.”

Delphinar set down a mug of coffee on the large kitchen table that he remembered from the night he’d dropped his sons off with her. The house was different, so were most of the furnishings, but some things obviously didn’t change. “You mean you didn’t come here just for my special house blend?” The smile faded. “If I were given to paranoia I’d think you were gathering information for one of your hunts.”

“Your people haven’t given me a reason to contemplate hunting you. This time it’s just simple human curiosity.”

“You know that I can’t tell you everything, so what would you like to know?”

“Why you waste your time with a planet like this.”

“That’s a very loaded question, isn’t it? We ‘waste our time’ with many planets. It’s not a waste to learn about different peoples—humans could take a cue from us in that regard.”

“Most of us take comfort in ignorance.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that. It is bliss—or at least gives you the illusion of bliss.”

“Sometimes I wish I could live in that world. That my sons could.”

She nodded, taking a sip from her own cup. “I understand your sentiment but I can’t agree. Ignorance is not freedom, and it isn’t protection either. Let me ask—what happens to the people whose lives are interrupted by the things you hunt?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you save someone from being hurt by whatever creature is after them. Or the families of those who are killed. What happens to them afterward?”

“They go on as best they can, I assume. Hunters don’t usually stay long enough to find out.”

“But it goes without saying that they are changed.”

“Of course.”

“And their inocence is lost.”

“Most of the time. Some of them block it all out, I’m sure. Forget it happened, pretend it didn’t, convince themselves that it was something rational enough for their minds to accept.”

Delphinar nodded. “Minds are capable of all manner of self-delusion. But that doesn’t change reality—it just puts an illusion in place. My people choose to acknowledge what is, no matter how uncomfortable that reality may be. To our way of thinking, illusion is worse, because it doesn’t offer anything truly real.”

“Yeah, but most of your people haven’t seen the things I have.”

Her smile slowly moved into something approaching nastiness. “You hunters are not the only ones to have seen darkness. Things that are evil and prey upon the innocent do not exist just on this planet.”

“I keep forgetting you live in a much wider world than we do.”

“Perhaps. Wider in a spatial sense, but I think you plumb the same depths that we do. We understand each other better than you think, John. I could be a help to you, and I’m willing to be.”

He considered it. She would be a powerful ally, and there was always the chance that her assistance could lead to help from others of her kind. “It’s a tempting offer, but I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Why not?”

He sighed. “Because hunting isn’t something you can just casually do. It has a way of pulling you in, and as helpful as you might be, there’s always the chance that adding you and your people into the mix might make things worse. Didn’t you tell me that there are neromancers who don’t like us?”

“Yes,” she said, looking pained.

“Not a potential enemy I’d like to have,” he said. “I know you want to help, but I think it’s better if you stay out of it.”

“As you wish.”

 

 

It was hard to focus on the job at hand, harder than it should have been. He was used to being in control, knowing what needed to be done and doing it. But now instead of just Sam’s stubbornness to deal with, he had their new ally, and it wasn’t hard to see which of the Winchesters she would side with.

If only Delphinar had just stayed out of his business and out of their lives like he’d wanted her to. But she was right; no point in cursing the things that might have been or should have been. It wouldn’t change reality and he still had a job to do.

He called Dean, giving him instructions without explanation that he didn’t have time to give. Somehow it didn’t surprise him when the car shot past his truck and swerved to a halt in front of him, nearly sideways in the road to keep him from passing.

“Sam, dammit,” he growled, getting out to meet his younger son head on. This had to stop and right now.

 

 

“How are your sons doing?”

The question stopped him cold. Of course he hadn’t forgotten that she knew, but he’d hoped his avoidance of the subject around her would have sent a clear message. “Fine,” he said. “Do you have that information I asked for?”

She frowned. It was a different library, different town, and her name was different, but that meant as little as the multitude of names on the various credit cards he used to get by. “Of course. Will you tell them I said hello?”

“That’s not a good idea.”

“May I ask why?”

Dean had talked about her for weeks afterwards, and Sam would constantly ask “Where Del?” He’d decided that not talking about it and changing the subject was the best way to go; as irritated as it made him, he couldn’t quite bring himself to snap at either of them. It wasn’t their fault that she’d made such a strong impression on them. Eventually they’d forgotten about her, or at the very least hadn’t brought her up again. He wanted to keep it that way.

“Because they’re none of your concern.”

Her hands tightened on the ancient book on the desk in front of her, enough that the tips of her nails started to dig into the cracked and worn cover that protected pages and pages of obscure, ancient Latin on the subject of demons. She hadn’t asked any questions about it, just like she hadn’t asked the times before when he’d asked her help to find the obscure, out of print, and rare. But apparently that discretion didn’t exist where his sons were concerned. “I see. So you put me in charge of their care, but once my duties were discharged I am supposed to forget about them? Pretend that I didn’t form a bond with them?”

“I didn’t ask you to form a bond. I asked you to keep them safe and you did. End of story.”

“It’s not the end of story,” she said, her voice low but filled with an anger that almost made him take a step back. “All I did was ask how they’re doing and hope that perhaps you might let them know that I still think about them. I respect your authority and have made no attempt to contact them, but I don’t think a tiny bit of courtesy on your part is too much to ask.”

“And I told you they’re fine. That’s all you need to know.”

The anger faded from her eyes, replaced by a coldness he hadn’t thought possible from her. “Fine.” She pushed the book towards him. “Is there anything else you require?”

“Not from you, no.”

“Then good day.”

That was the last time he’d seen her.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam wasn’t budging. There was a time when John still had the height and power to overpower his younger son in both senses of the word, but they were clearly past that point. Sam was taller now, still slender but slowly gaining muscle, and he was confident enough to stand up to his father. Dean was doing his best to try to defuse the situation but tempers on both sides had flared way beyond that point.

And still no sign of the neromancer. She hadn’t gotten out of the car that he’d seen, and she had stayed clear of the clash of wills. If he was lucky she’d stay clear.

He just couldn’t understand why Sam didn’t get it. He thought that maybe time away at college would have matured him a little, give him some perspective and some understanding that would mean the end of the angsty teenage bullshit, that he’d finally get just why his father didn’t have the time to stop and explain every decision that he made, every order he gave, that he couldn’t afford to, and that there were some things that were just none of Sam’s damn business. Dean got it; why couldn’t he?

Or maybe Sam just needed to get it out of his system. It was possible, but of all the horrible times for him to dig his heels in . . . and the fact just made him angrier. Sam was the one who left, and now he was back and wanting to call the shots?

Over his dead body.

He and Sam were toe to toe, nearly bumping chests as they tried to shout each other down. Dean was trying to get between them when he suddenly stepped aside, making room for something much larger that grabbed John and Sam and forced them apart. He knew what it was as soon as he felt the huge fingers with their clawed tips fist his shirt and jacket with what must have been enormous gentleness on her part to avoid tearing into his flesh, but it was still a shock how much power there was in her hands. He might have been able to ignore Dean, but this was a wall of fur and flesh and muscle that he wouldn’t be able to fight around.

“I think that’s enough,” she said to Sam, her voice that deeper, more resonant version of the one that fit into her smaller human form. 

“She’s right, Sam,” John said.

That huge head swung around to face him, her lip curled back just enough to show her fangs. “I mean _both_ of you,” she rumbled, the vibration running through him. “There are more important things to worry about right now than your dick-swinging contest. Now stow it, or deal with me.”

Dean snorted. “You heard the lady. Put the rulers away and zip it.”

In the face of such an inexorable force, he had no choice but to back down. He looked up at Jayme, meeting her gaze, which contained more than a hint of warning and a lot of determination. He turned and headed back to his truck, a realization slowly creeping over him.

Delphinar had gotten her way in the end after all.

 

 

They were close. Very close. But it was night and darkness was not the right time to make a move. There was no time to find a motel, so they pulled their cars off the road and well into the woods to wait the few hours until dawn.

Everything was still for a while, then Jayme got out of the car. She came over to the truck, waiting until he rolled down the window. “Over your little snit back there?”

“Is Sam?”

“Of course not. I didn’t expect him to be.”

“Look, Jayme—”

“I know what you’re going to say. Save it. It is my business now. I’m part of this whole thing whether you like it or not. You’re stuck with me. And you know what? I’m through being shy about it. You wanna fight with Sam or Dean? You go right ahead, but not now. You of all people should know that going into this without focus can get someone killed. And I will not allow that to happen.”

“You’re sure of that.”

She braced her hands on the door ledge. “I would even go through you if I had to. But they love you more than you can imagine, and that means I won’t. Ever. But don’t pretend for an instant that I feel the same way.”

“That a threat?”

She stepped back. “You tell me. You can take that any way you want.” She headed back to the car.

 

 

Things were much quieter the next morning; whatever residual anger Sam felt he was keeping to himself. Jayme was quiet as well, but it wasn’t a brooding quiet. He recognized the slow-growing focus of a hunter well enough to see it in her eyes.

They found the vampire nest as easily as he hoped, an abandoned barn deep in the woods. After parking the cars more than a hundred yards away, they crept within sight of the barn to get the lay of the land. Vampires slept during the day, giving them their best chance for a stealthy raid. Sunlight wouldn’t kill them but it would hopefully slow them down if things went south.

“Why not just let me go in and play House of Blue Leaves with them?” Jayme asked. “Pretty sure I can take them all on myself.”

John shook his head. “You’re big and strong, but they’re fast, strong, and they can do damage to you. We’re not going in there to have the whole nest wake up and attack.”

They headed back to gather weapons; John pulled Jayme aside. “Have your nahya handy?”

Jayme reached behind her back, drawing it. “Always.”

“How good are you with that thing?”

“Enough to accomplish your goals, I’m sure. And if it can’t do it, I have other secret weapons at hand.”

“You need to be careful. There’s no telling what could happen if one of them were to bite you.”

Her grin spread, making him wonder what she looked like without her Earth alterations. “You’re assuming that I’d let any of them get that close.”

“Look, you let me take care of finding the gun. You just watch their backs.”

“Don’t you think it’s time you told us just what we’re going after? Really?” she said, waiting until Sam and Dean were close enough to hear.

So he told them. He would have preferred to have left it for a while, even never, but they’d forced his hand. Time to let them just how important this really was, even if afterwards they would be incredibly unlikely to just let him handle things.


	7. Chapter 7

Delphinar and Missouri had been right in their own ways. He’d left too much unsaid for too long. He wasn’t quite ready to let them in on everything, but now was not the time to make the distance between him and Sam even wider. The Colt was still within their grasp, but they had to play it even more carefully now.

It hadn’t gone the way he planned, but one thing hunting taught you was that things went south as often as not, and you had to be adaptable and flexible enough to cope with whatever left turns came at you. Evidently his sons and Jayme were catching on to that fact; they were smart and ran for it as soon as the vamps woke, resisting the urge to try to stand their ground, and when he’d caught up with them they were all unharmed. That was the best outcome he could have hoped for considering the Colt had slipped his grasp, but things weren’t over yet. He had not come this far just to let a nest of vampires stop him. If he had to, he’d go back alone with Jayme and tell her to let the beast out to play. But it wasn’t to that point yet.

He waited until Jayme and Dean had left on their errand, the pair already griping good-naturedly between themselves. _Like an old married couple_ , he thought, the notion uncomfortably close for comfort.

“I need to go help them,” Sam said.

“Just relax. They’ve got it. Or are you telling me you don’t trust a neromancer to watch Dean’s back?”

“No, that’s not it, I mean, she’d never let anything happen to him, it’s just . . . I don’t know.”

“It’s that you’re not there to know for sure what’s going on.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“You boys like her, don’t you.”

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure at first, but she’s stuck with us through some pretty hairy stuff, and . . . it’s nice to have her around.”

“Makes you feel safe, doesn’t she?”

“Actually, yeah. That’s why you left us with her mom that one time, isn’t it?”

He paused, then nodded. “Yeah. Mostly because I didn’t have time to get you two to Bobby’s or Pastor Jim’s or even to Caleb. But also because I knew that if anything evil was stupid enough to go after you that she’d put herself between you and whatever it was.”

“You really think something would have tried to go after us?”

“I knew it was a long shot, but—Sam, you have to understand that after your mom died I saw evil everywhere. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do except keep you two safe, no matter what.” He told Sam about the college fund he’d started, that he never wanted this life for them, didn’t want to be their drill sergeant but things just happened the way they had. He wasn’t sure it would be enough to even begin to make up for things, but Sam seemed to really be listening, taking in what he was hearing and letting it move past the anger and bitterness. 

“Anyway, there are times I wonder if keeping her apart from you, making sure she never saw you again was a mistake. I just . . . figured that I was the only one who knew how to keep you safe and I didn’t want to share that responsibility with anyone.”

“It’s okay, Dad. Besides—if we’d needed her she would have been there. Jayme said Delphinar kept tabs on us over the years. She knew where we were pretty much our whole lives.”

“And I bet having her daughter latch onto you two was all part of her plan.”

Sam shrugged. “Could be. She never said. But so far things have turned out okay.”

“So you never had any doubts?”

“No, I had doubts, especially after she hurt Dean. But she’s only ever tried to help us.”

“What about Dean?”

Sam laughed and shook his head. “I don’t even understand those two and I know they don’t.”

Dean and Jayme returned a few minutes later, Dean producing a jar filled with red liquid with the same nonchalance as if it were a bottle of ketchup. “Didn’t know they needed so much security for dead guys.”

“You weren’t seen, were you?” he asked.

“Hell no,” Jayme said. “Rent-a-Muscles don’t exactly have SEAL training. Not hard to get them running the wrong way.” She straightened her cuffs. “Not that they would have had a chance in hell of catching me even if they had.”

“You shoulda seen it, Sammy. She took this flight of stairs—” Dean broke off, noticing John’s glare. “We can talk about it later.”

 

 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jayme hissed. They were back far enough from the Impala that they were out of range for any vampires to smell or hear them, but still in visual range. “What if one of them attacks?”

“They won’t. Not right away. Besides; we have to lure them in close enough to shoot. When they’re focused on Dean, we can move in.”

“And what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not. Trust me.”

She snorted, returning her gaze to Dean. They didn’t have long to wait; vampires were expert trackers and the one who had been cuddled up with Luther came right up to Dean, playing out a reversal of the usual broke-down vehicle damsel-in-distress scenario. They exchanged only a few words before she slapped him, then grabbed his face, literally lifting him off his feet.

“Easy,” John whispered. Jayme was literally shaking, her claws gouging deep into the log she was crouched behind. John moved slightly until he was touching her, feeling how taut her entire body was, her muscles locked, her sides literally vibrating with the force of her growls that were thankfully inaudible.

“Dad,” Sam whispered.

“Not yet.” John waited a few more beats as the female vamp kissed Dean long and slow, a move which seemed to amuse her companion. He waited until their attention was fully focused on Dean, then waved Sam and Jayme forward. She moved into step behind Sam, as focused as a cat waiting to pounce. The fact that she didn’t just tear loose and head straight for Dean did not escape his notice.

Their arrows were true, the blood Dean had collected—dead man’s blood—doing its work with efficiency. He had their leverage. He ordered Sam and Dean to load her into his truck, turning to take care of the other vampire.

A huge clawed hand landed on his shoulder. “No. He’s mine.”

“We don’t have time for—” He stopped. “All right. You’ll need this.” He drew his machete.

“Wow. You really don’t know as much about us as I thought,” she murmured. He let his hand drop as she turned, her back curling as she snapped her fingers out to their full length. Her way was noisier and certainly messier, but the vampire’s head yielded to her swipe as well as it would have his machete. “Feel better?” he asked.

She turned to him. “A little. Breaking that bitch over my knee would feel even better. I know,” she said, stalking past him. “We need her alive.”


	8. Chapter 8

He knew they wouldn’t go quietly. He didn’t expect them to and they didn’t disappoint. And he could see exactly why—they’d come with him this far and now he was telling them that he’d take it from there. They’d set up a fire with saffron, skunk’s cabbage, and trillium to block their scent—Jayme seemed to be the only one not bothered by the smell—and give him enough time to get everything set and make sure they were clear.

He almost expected Jayme to speak up first; she was still in her beast form, a giant looming watchdog whose gaze never stopped moving. Instead it was Sam, grating against him once again, covering the exact ground he’d anticipated—we want to come with you, you can’t treat us like children, this is our fight too.

He didn’t expect Dean to side with him. It threw John Winchester for as much of a loop as he was capable of. He caught Jayme looking on, figuring that her near-smirk and crossed arms meant that she approved. But the hunts they’d been on, with her and without her, were not the same thing, and he told all three of them as much.

“Why? Because we have Jayme? No offense, Jaymes, but you’re not perfect. Nothing is a hundred percent, Dad, but let’s face it—”

“You’re different now,” John said. “Now that’s it’s not just you and Sam. I get it, okay? You have a damn powerful ally there. But this demon is a bad son of a bitch. Badder than anything you’ve ever faced. I can’t fight it and worry about you two at the same time.”

“May I ask a question?” Jayme said. “Why not let me watch their backs? You’ve seen what I can do. Let me worry about them for a change.”

He regarded her for a minute, standing slightly behind his sons and dwarfing them both. In any other circumstances seeing something that big and powerful standing that close to either of his sons would have filled him with terror. He’d trusted her mother to protect them before . . . why not again?

No. This demon was his fight. The further his sons were from it, the safer they’d be. Not being able to tell them why was killing him, but hopefully someday they’d understand . . . that he had to ensure that they would live long enough to understand someday.

“Look, I understand that things have changed, but . . . I don’t expect to make it out of this alive, okay? Losing your mother almost killed me. I can’t watch you die too.”

“That won’t happen,” Jayme said, her voice booming out. “I won’t let it.”

“Dad, what if something happens to you and we could have stopped it?” Dean said. “I think Sam and Jayme are right. We should do this together.” He saw the stubbornness begin to close over John’s features and kept going while the words were there. “Look, I know having Jayme here is no guarantee, but come on! When have we ever had someone like her on our side? That’s _got_ to make a difference, Dad!”

For a moment he almost agreed; like so many other things it was just too temptingly easy. “We’re out of time. Do your job and clear out. That’s an order.”

 

 

The thought that going alone might have been a mistake did not occur to him until he hit the open truck door so hard the glass shattered, and consciousness fled.

When it returned, sound just a grating, buzzing background noise until he was able to fight to his knees and then to his feet, he noticed that not only had they not torn him to pieces, but their attention wasn’t on him any more.

Dean was facing two figures, whose backs were to John. There was a machete in his hand and he had an expression that John had only ever seen when Sam was in danger—a mix of rage, fear, and absolute, deadly concentration. His eyes never left Luther, who was holding Sam in a headlock and slowly choking the life out of his brother.

But they were stalemated. As long as the vampire had Sam, Dean wasn’t going to move.

“Let him go, you son of a bitch,” Dean growled.

“Put the knife down, or I break his neck.”

“Let him go and I put the knife down.”

“No, that’s not how this works.” He tightened his grip even more and Sam groaned, veins standing out on his temples as he strained to take a breath. “Put the knife down or I break his neck.”

John reached for the Colt, his hand closing over it; none of the vampires seemed to notice. He pulled himself back up, waiting for the right moment. He’d never risk firing while Luther was holding Sam, but the instant that changed, he’d be ready.

 _If_ it changed. Luther clearly had no intention of releasing his leverage, and something had to happen before Sam strangled to death. To his right, the underbrush rustled and something huge slipped out, moving quickly to close the gap between it and Luther.

Dean noticed, John could tell, but he didn’t move. His expression changed little, though a hint of satisfaction crept into his eyes. 

Rising up to her considerable height, Jayme towered over Luther and Sam—bent backwards by the vampire’s grip—and reached around, her hands grabbing Luther’s arms.

Luther gasped. “What the hell . . . ”

Vampires had strength and speed far superior to humans, but Luther was helpless against the huge clawed hands that held him in a vise grip, forcing his arms away from Sam’s neck. Sam lurched away and Dean grabbed him, pulling him back. 

He’d once asked Delphinar if neromancers were really as fierce as they looked, how close the animal they’d once been—and still looked like—was. Her answer had been ambiguous, but he could read between the lines enough to know that the answer was “Sometimes, too close.”

It didn’t matter now. Whether monsters died by silver, fire, bullets, or being ripped apart by something bigger and stronger, the end result was the same. Jayme’s ears laid flat against her skull as she roared, slamming her hand on the back of Luther’s jacket and fisting it, lifting him off the ground and shaking him like a disobedient Pomeranian before hurling him twenty feet. Most of the vampires backed up, staring, but one male close by leaped for her.

Her roar reached a furious blare as she met him head on, her hand seizing his neck. She leaned in and for a terrible moment he thought she was going to bite him. Instead she picked him up by his neck and lifted violently, his body making a sharp arc in the air as she slammed him into the pavement so hard it cracked. When she let go, his head rolled away from his body, trailing strings of flesh behind it.

All three Winchesters waited for her to wade into them and destroy them all, but instead she backed up, her wide stance keeping Sam and Dean shielded. “Touch him again, and I’ll make you eat your own arms. Slowly. Go ahead, glare! Bare those fangs!” she growled at the others. “I have no problem with spreading you all over this road right along with your friend there!”

“And she can do it, too,” Dean said. 

“What’s this? Now you hunters have monsters working with you?” Luther snarled, getting slowly to his feet.

Jayme tilted her head. “Whatever works, baby.”

“So, what? This . . . thing you let live, but you come after us? We have as much right to live as she does!”

John hesitated only long enough to be sure that Jayme wasn’t going to move. “I don’t think so,” he said, firing.


	9. Chapter 9

He found her outside in the shadows, leaning against the wall. Her profile and the long hair that streamed around her shoulders made it easy for him to picture the big catlike creature that lay under the surface. “Boys are packing up,” he said. “You should get a move on.”

“Already done,” she said. “I travel light.”

“Most of your people do.”

She pushed off from the wall and turned to face him. “Yes, it was quite a surprise to find out that you not only know about us, but that you once left your sons with my mother.”

“Your mother was a good woman. I’m sorry things went the way they did. I wish they could be different.”

“Maybe. She always said things happen for a reason, and regretting them is a waste of time.”

“Do you believe that?”

“Don’t know. Never thought much about fate, but . . . since meeting your sons I think I might have changed my mind.”

“So it’s not just an obligation to you.”

“Not anymore, no. I’m beginning to wonder if it ever was.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your sons are pains in the ass, they’re argumentative, in Dean’s case almost totally without manners, they get on my last nerve sometimes . . . and I’d do anything for them.” She bit her lip. “They’re home to me now.”

“What about your planet?”

She shook her head. “That hasn’t been home since . . . well, ever. This is. Look, I don’t know if it was Ahma’s master plan for me to get involved or what she wanted. She never told me _anything_ , and now I find out she told me even less than I thought. But I’m here, and I’m not turning back. That’s the only damn thing I do know.”

It was as open and vulnerable as he could imagine her being, and the words had the weight of truth behind them. “I don’t doubt that. Not now. Dean tells me you’ve been riding with them long enough to have run into a few things, but they’re nothing like what we’re up against with this demon. How far are you prepared to go?”

“ _Natha dhaga thayhr_.”

“Which means?”

“Until the end of all things. The final end, whatever that is.”

“Something tells me that’s not something your people say lightly.”

“You seem to know more about us than you admit, enough to know that there are certain things we never speak lightly of. If you still doubt my commitment to them after what you’ve seen, I don’t know what else I can do to convince you.”

“I know they trust you, and you’re not stupid. But this goes deeper than anything you can imagine.”

“Look, John. You don’t know my imagination. If what I’ve seen so far hasn’t scared me off yet, I don’t know what would.”

“You haven’t seen a fraction of what’s out there. But you obviously don’t scare easy even if a vetala nearly took you out.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “That was a mistake and one that will not happen again.”

“You have a lot more fire than your mother. I need to know if I can count on that fire.”

“Depends what you mean. Be specific.”

“I can’t. I don’t know what’s going to happen now. But if you’re coming with us, I need you to do one thing. Keep Sam and Dean safe. No matter what happens to me. That is the only thing I want from you.”

She studied him with the same contemplative, analytical gaze Delphinar had turned on him more than once. “You really aren’t planning on surviving this, are you? You’re counting on dying while you’re taking this thing down.”

“Jayme—”

“You do realize that all they’ve done since I’ve met them is look for you and worry about you and you’re counting on _dying_?”

“I’m not counting on anything,” he said, fighting to keep his voice low. “But I am going to destroy this demon one way or another, and the only thing I want out of it is my sons healthy and whole. Now are you going to help me or not?”

“So what they want isn’t important. It’s all about you and your revenge. Fine. Your sons will not come to harm if I can stop it, and I will put my body on the line to make sure that happens. I owe them that much.”

“You can do one more thing for them.”

“What’s that?”

“After this is done, stay with them. Not saying you wouldn’t anyway, but . . . take care of them for me.”

“On one condition. If you do make it, try to see your sons like I do. I’ve been on this planet for fifty years and I’ve never met humans who look at me like they do, with their strength and resilience—it’s like looking at a neromancer. You can trust them, and you can trust me.”

He took a long breath, holding it for several moments before letting it out. “In that case . . . there are some things you need to know.”


End file.
